


In the Shadows of the Mind

by torino10154



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Cross-Generation Relationship, First Time, Frottage, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2597195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torino10154/pseuds/torino10154
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James isn't so sure about going on a father and son Muggle-style camping trip but it turns out to be just what they both need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Shadows of the Mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gracerene](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/gifts).



"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" James asked as his father put the last of the camping gear into a bottomless sack.

Harry pulled the string closed and threw it over his shoulder. "First of all, it's only one night. And second, we have our wands if something goes wrong." James started to open his mouth but Harry gave him a look and said, "Which it won't."

James sighed. "When we're stuck out in the middle of nowhere, freezing to death, I'm blaming you."

Harry laughed. "Fair enough."

James held out his arm and his dad took it to side-along Apparate him. James could Apparate by himself, of course, but he didn't know where they were going. A surprise, his dad said. 

"Ready?" Harry said, his face filled with childlike excitement. 

James grinned back. "Ready."

Holding his breath, James felt the squeeze of Disapparation and before he knew it, they'd landed in a clearing in the forest, fallen leaves crunching under his feet.

James turned toward the sound of a stream, then up at the trees, some bare, some still gold and orange. 

"Where are we?" he asked, walking toward Harry, who had pulled the tent out of the bag.

"Forest of Dean." 

James expected further explanation but his dad didn't say anything else. Instead he laid the tent out on the ground and pulled out a hammer of some kind. "Pass me that stake, please."

James picked up a large metal stake and handed it to Harry. "Don't Muggles kill werewolves with these?"

"Vampires." Harry snorted and shook his head. "When I was a boy, I never imagined that werewolves and vampires really existed."

James sometimes had trouble believing his dad didn't know about magic until he went to Hogwarts. Sometimes he had trouble believing his dad was Harry Potter. He was just Dad.

"You could give me a hand, you know," Harry said, wiping his forehead.

"Sorry, Dad," James said, contrite. 

They finished setting up the tent and stood back to look at it.

"It's not a magical tent?" 

"No. Completely and one hundred percent Muggle."

James frowned. "Seems small."

"There's just the two of us." Harry wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Plenty of room."

James kneeled down and lifted the flap. "I'm not a little kid anymore, Dad. I'm over six feet tall."

"Oh, I know. I'll never forget the day I realised you were taller than me."

He had only bested him by a couple of inches, but it was enough. James stood back up and smiled down at his dad.

"All right, then, Jamie," Harry said. "Let's collect some firewood. Twigs, sticks, branches, whatever you find."

James pulled his wand from his pocket, ready to Summon what they needed.

"No magic, remember?" 

"Fine." James rolled his eyes and wandered toward the edge of the clearing, where he could see some fallen branches.

Once he'd filled his arms with as much as he could carry, James walked back to the tent, where his dad had already started a fire.

"No magic?" James asked, fairly impressed.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. "Matches."

James half-sat, half-leaned against a tree stump. "Please tell me we aren't going to have to hunt for supper or eat bugs."

Harry burst out laughing, the sound so infectious James couldn't help but laugh, too. 

"Absolutely not," Harry said once he caught his breath. "We have plenty of food, well preserved. That's one thing I didn't want to do the Muggle way." He looked at James out of the corner of his eye. "Especially with how much you eat."

Once the fire was going steadily, Harry made two plates of food, handing one to James with a bottle of beer. He then sat down and opened his own beer.

"To my son," Harry said, lifting the bottle.

"Al's not here," James replied even as he clinked his bottle against his dad's.

"That's right," Harry said. "Just you and me this time. You'll be away at university this time next year."

"Or maybe I'll be a Quidditch star, traveling all over Europe and worshipped by adoring fans." James gave his dad a wink and a cheeky grin.

"You are too much, James Potter." Harry shook his head and lifted his fork. "I don't think Muggles get to eat anything as good as Molly's pot roast when camping. I know I sure didn't."

James sensed an opening—his dad so very rarely wanted to talk about the past, as usually people brought it up to him when he least wanted to discuss it—and said tentatively, "This is where you hid with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione, right?" 

Harry nodded his head as he chewed. "Not right here but in the Forest of Dean, yes."

"Why did you want to camp here, then? We could have gone anywhere." 

"I've been here many times over the years." Harry half-shrugged. "You're about the same age that I was then." He stabbed a piece of potato with his fork and just like that he was quiet again.

James ate his supper slowly, pondering what it must have been like. Being on the run seemed glamourous when he watched it in Muggle films. Somehow he didn't think that was anything like reality. 

"Should I put more wood on the fire?" he asked and seemed to snap his dad out of his thoughts.

"That one there." Harry pointed. "It'll burn all night."

James picked up a good-sized piece of wood and laid it in the flames. 

Harry pointed his wand at the fire and drew a small circle. "It'll keep the fire from spreading while we sleep. It's a safety precaution I don't mind using magic for."

James watched the flames jump and crack as his dad put away their supper dishes and took sleeping bags out of his bottomless bag, then crawled into the tent. 

"That's all set, then," Harry said, sticking his head out of the tent flap. "Need to, er..." He waved his hand vaguely and James finally realised what he meant.

"Piss?"

"Yeah, that."

James stood up and stretched, his back making a loud cracking sound. "I'll be right back." He walked toward a large tree and stepped behind it, pulling his prick from his trousers and pissing against the trunk when he was struck by an awful thought.

What would he do if he had to take a shit? 

Hopefully, it wouldn't be an issue, they'd be going home by lunch tomorrow. James shook the last drops off the end and tucked himself back into his pants. 

As he walked back, he saw his dad coming from behind the tent, presumably where he went to relieve himself.

"Take your shoes off and leave them right inside the entrance," Harry said as he pulled off one of his shoes. James did the same and crawled inside.

He blinked when he saw the sleeping bags. Rather than two separate ones, they were zipped together making one, overlarge one. 

"It's warmer this way," Harry said, lifting one corner. "It'll be near freezing tonight and we'll need the body heat."

"We could, I don't know," James said, sarcastically, "use magic."

Harry only chuckled as he slid into the sleeping bag. "Nonsense."

James, too, slid into the sleeping bag and pulled it up to his neck. "Comfortable."

"Trust me, I've had worse," Harry said as he pulled the flaps closed on the tent and settled down beside James.

His dad was right, it was very warm in the sleeping bag. The comforting scent of his father and sound of his soft breathing lulled James right to sleep. 

When James woke up it was still dark and he realised two things at once: his dad was breathing down his neck, front pressed to James's back, and he was hard.

So was James.

But he was a teenager; he was always hard. 

He shifted slightly, pushing back against his dad, thinking that perhaps if he felt James moving he would pull away.

James wasn't sure he wanted him to.

But Harry didn't pull away. 

He knew it was wrong, he really did, but his dad was such a deep sleeper—strange for an Auror, in James's opinion but that was neither here nor there—and James's cock was aching and surely it wouldn't mean anything if he just quietly wanked himself and then cleaned up.

His dad would never know. 

Slipping his hand inside his pants, James bit the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning. He slowly rolled his hips, pushing back against his dad then sliding his cock into his fist.

He was used to being quiet when he wasn't alone in his bedroom ever since Teddy had been caught at the Burrow and everyone knew it. James wasn't about to embarrass himself like that. 

James closed his eyes, concentrating on bringing himself off as quickly as possible.

Then his dad moaned.

James froze when he felt his hand move to James's hip, pulling him closer, and then thrusting against James's arse.

He felt hot breath against his neck, his dad panting as he rocked against him.

His dad had to be sleeping and didn't know what he was doing. James should stop him but he didn't want to. It felt too good.

"I know you're awake, Jamie," his dad said softly, lips pressed to the shell of his ear. 

"Oh, God." James couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Surely his dad would think he was disgusting.

But to his shock, his dad's hand moved from his hip over his stomach, settling just above the waistband of his pants, right next to James's forearm.

And James wanted nothing more in the world than to feel those rough, calloused hands on him.

"Do you want me to stop?" 

"No," James said, voice barely a whisper. "Please."

He felt the exhalation behind him, the release of tension palpable as Harry then reached into James's pants and stroked his cock.

"Oh, fuck," James gasped, body trembling.

Harry knew just how to touch him with the perfect amount of friction but not enough to send him over the edge. He continued thrusting against him from behind, his hot breath making James shiver all over. 

"Push your pants down." 

James thought he might come. But he hooked his thumbs into his pants and shoved them down, the rustling behind him indicating his father as doing the same. 

James groaned when he felt his father's cock hot and hard against his bare arse. 

"Good boy," Harry murmured.

In that moment James was lost. He snapped his hips forward, pushing his cock into his dad's fist, come spurting in several long pulses. 

Still his dad moved, faster and faster behind him, his sticky hand splayed over James's stomach until he groaned, body tensing, and James felt the hot, wet come hit his arse, bollocks and backs of his thighs. 

James lay still, his heart still racing in his chest, even as he felt the gentle spell to clean the mess they'd made.

He waited, wondering what to say, what his dad would say. 

Harry didn't say anything, though. Eventually his breathing evened into soft snores, his hand holding James close.

James closed his eyes and whispered, "Love you, Dad."

He wasn't sure whether he imagined it but he could have sworn he heard a reply.

"Love you, too, Jamie."

When James woke up in the morning, he was refreshed, unable to believe he'd slept on the cold, hard ground all night.

Then he remembered.

He smelled rashers and eggs and crawled out of the tent to find his dad holding a frying pan over the fire.

"Smells delicious."

Harry set the pan down on a stump and looked up at him then. James had never seen him look more wretched. Guilt written in every line of his face.

"James." He cleared his throat, seemingly unable to speak. "Jamie, I—" he started but James silenced him by wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tight.

"It's all right." James pressed his lips to his dad's forehead, right over the faint scar. 

Harry took a shuddering breath and rested his head against James's shoulder. 

"I need...." 

"What?" James asked. "Whatever you need, I'm here for you, Dad. Anything."

His dad looked up into his eyes and James felt like he was on fire, his body knowing before his brain did what it was his dad was asking of him.

"Anything at all," James repeated. In the blink of an eye, they were inside the tent, magically expanded to give them more room.

James didn't know how he did it, wordlessly and wandlessly, but that hardly mattered as they tore off their clothes, his dad turning him and pushing him to the ground, cock hard against James's arse.

"Tell me you want this, Jamie," Harry said, his voice low and rough. "I need you to say it."

"Please, fuck me," James begged, rolling his hips back against his dad then forward to get friction on his cock. 

Harry moaned and thrust hard against James before pulling away.

James looked over his shoulder and his stomach flipped as he watched his dad stroking himself, slicking his cock so he could fuck him. 

He turned back around when he felt two fingers press to his hole, unable to breathe as he was stretched.

"Oh, God," James cried out when he felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him. His dad rubbed the spot inside him again and his legs trembled. "Please, Dad."

He felt the fingers slip free and braced himself when he felt something else press against his hole. It was so much bigger, hotter, _better_ in every way.

"Bear down," his dad said, never slowing, still pushing and pushing.

James thought he might die; it hurt and it was glorious. He bit his wrist to keep from shouting and when his dad stopped, body pressed to James's, he realised what he really wanted.

"Move," James said, then repeated louder, "Move!"

Harry pulled back and thrust in, both of them moaning with the movement. James's mind was blank, his only thought was of how full he felt—he'd never felt anything like it—and how much he wanted to come.

His dad pounded into him, every inch of his cock driving James against the ground.

His blood was rushing in his ears, and though he knew his dad was talking he couldn't understand a word. 

Words didn't matter. He was giving his dad what he wanted. What he needed. 

Fingers dug into his shoulders as Harry shifted and pulled James's body up. He then reached beneath James and wrapped his hand around his cock.

"I'll come," James blurted, knowing he couldn't stop it. Harry stroked him faster and James screamed, his arse clamping down on his dad's cock, pulling Harry's orgasm from him seconds after James's. 

James collapsed to the ground again, panting and sweaty, his dad's cock still inside him. Once he caught his breath, he moved sideways, out from under him, and then wrapped his arms around his dad.

Not sure he really understood why his dad needed this, nevertheless James was more than willing to shoulder the extra weight, if it eased the burden Harry Potter carried upon his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Please show your appreciation for the author here, or on [LIVEJOURNAL](http://hp-crossgenfest.livejournal.com/11207.html)! ♥


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